I thought this would be a good platform to get my writing out there so, basically, enjoy!
Feel free to read and squeeze this for yourselves.
The Golden Age: by, yours truly, Georgia Moore
She didn’t recognise anyone in the room. It was a strange feeling to be in a room so full and yet feeling so alone. Not five minutes ago she was surrounded by infuriating but loving family and old family friends. Now everyone around her was wrinkled, intimidating … unfamiliar. They were all speaking as if they knew each other. They were all smiling eerily. Some would even send a shifty glance in her direction as if she were the odd one.
‘I should leave,’ was her immediate thought ‘I should get out of here while I’m not noticed.’ She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention to her before gradually rising from her seat. Her knees shook and she wondered why it was such a struggle at her youthful age. However, she continued despite the spine tingling pain. She casually rose until she was erect and surveyed the room: ‘All clear.’ She thought.
‘Where are you going?’ A booming voice demanded of her from an armchair opposite her.
‘I think I’ll be getting off now. Parents will wonder where I am, you see,’ and she added in thought ‘If only I knew where I was.’
‘I’m definite they won’t be. Now sit.’
‘I really should be going.’
‘No. You. Don’t.’ The bellowing man advanced toward her with purpose set in his eyes. He reached out and pushed her back into the seat. ‘Just sit, okay?’
‘Why did you do that? Who do you think you are?’ She jumped to her feet (with great effort) and stumbled to a cupboard door she saw which stood ajar only a few feet away. As she approached she heard many of the occupants of the room rise, along with the towering man who restrained her before. She daren’t look behind but she could sense their swift movement toward her. The door stood but a metre away so she plunged herself into the darkness with a clatter of mops and buckets around her. She kicked the door shut behind her and turned the key with her quivering fingers just as a mass of bodies crashed against the door.
‘Get out of there. What are you doing?’
The gloom which surrounded her oppressed her greatly. She was alone. She was afraid. She was doomed. All these ominous thoughts ran through her confused mind while an orchestra of thuds and punches slammed against the paper-thin door. Her hands sheltered her ears in an attempt to block any sound from disturbing her, progressing into a rhythmic rocking backward and forward, backward and forward, backward and forward. Her confusion rose while her anxiety became overwhelming. The commotion on the other side of the barrier seemed to get louder and louder until she couldn’t hear her own thoughts swimming through her head, rocking faster and faster. Suddenly, she stretched her arms and legs to their full length and let out a shrill cry so chilling that it lowered a veil of silence.
The thudding had stopped. The gloom had lifted to a warm glow and everything was right in the world again. ‘I’m too old to be hiding away in cupboards.’ she thought. She calmly stood, unlocked the door and cautiously looked out.
She was encircled by the furrowed brows of her friends and family.
‘Oh, you’re back,’ She said though her flippancy seemed to baffle everyone in the room. ‘Sit down then. What are you all doing?’
She took a seat, accompanied by everyone in the room. However, while Rose sat with a serene smile spread over her lips, many of the others stared down into their laps or tried to be occupied while obviously having other things on their minds. Rose was perplexed as to what could have possibly happened while she was in the cupboard but felt nothing good could come from pressing the subject. She simply picked up her knitting and carried on as best as she could, considering many of the eyes were fixed on her. Out the corner of her eye she noticed her husband and Len rise and move into the kitchen area.
***
Gerald clicked the kettle to boil but left his eyes fixed on his wife.
‘How long has she been this bad?’ Len whispered.
‘About a month, but she’s never had an episode as drastic as that,’ He squeezed his eyes tight to prevent the tears from streaming down his face. He had to be strong for Rose as well as himself. All he could do was shake his head in despair. ‘Placing my hand on her shoulder shouldn’t make her keel over like that and she overreacts to my most amiable wishes.’
‘Maybe it’s a one off.’ Len’s empty optimism was nearly insulting to Gerald.
‘You know that’s not true. We just need to be prepared. And to remember she’ll always be my Rose. She’s still in there somewhere and always will be.’
The kettle came to the boil but Gerald was already walking away so Len took it upon himself to make the tea. Gerald headed straight to his wife and leant on the back of her signature armchair. Rose strained her head to look into her husband’s eyes.
‘I love you.’ Gerald whispered.
‘I love you too, Gerald.’ He cherished these words. He never knew when it would be the last time he would hear those words spoken from her unpredictable lips.
Picture from: http://www.gettyimages.co.uk/
The Weekly Squeeze 